


sucker for you

by 1813



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26627146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1813/pseuds/1813
Summary: There’s a question that hangs onto the tip of his tongue, heavy and terribly impulsive when he tastes it. “Omi-san,” He starts, “Have you ever drank from people?”Deprived of blood, Sakusa falls sick - but Hinata might have a solution.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 15
Kudos: 189





	sucker for you

**Author's Note:**

> for day six of omihina week, vampire au. 
> 
> not betaread. also the science in this fic is (vague hand gestures) so take it with a grain of salt, i suppose.

It’s a strange thing to feel Sakusa’s typically cold skin burn against the underside of his hand. A strange sight, too– the way Sakusa’s face contorts with a different kind of discomfort, one that Hinata hasn’t seen before. 

The abnormal body temperature and the countenance his roommate wears are both too familiar to Hinata, the clearest memory he has of his first nationals joining his jumbled thoughts; when he could only stare down at the gymnasium’s floor and the feeling of uncooperative legs. Right now, he isn’t in that position and hasn’t been for years, but Sakusa is, and the fact makes Hinata feel equally sick. Unusual, weird, a foreign occurrence to see– for Sakusa, of all people, to have a fever. 

Hinata wonders if he had worn himself out, though he knows it’s impossible because Sakusa isn’t one to prioritize work over health. A hundred questions rise within his head as he shuffles towards Sakusa and attempts to gently shake him awake, worrying his lip underneath his teeth in the process. “Omi-san?” He calls out, voice soft and shakier than he would like to admit. “Omi-san, let’s get you to bed.” He rocks the latter back and forth again, this time with more force.

It takes more than a single try for Sakusa to stir, and Hinata is relieved when he finally does. Another repeat of Sakusa’s name leaves Hinata’s lips before Sakusa cracks an eye open, the other naturally following, both peering up at the ceiling until they settle on Hinata. Hinata offers a smile that Sakusa doesn’t reciprocate, which is understandable. To say Sakusa looks tired is an understatement– he looks beyond exhausted, like he’s been to hell and back a thousand times. Dark circles lay beneath his eyes, and his lips are almost as pale as his skin, his overall appearance reminding Hinata of the undead. 

Sakusa could pass as one at the moment if he weren’t already something entirely different. 

“You have a fever,” Hinata tells him. Sakusa raises both of his eyebrows as if to wordlessly judge him for stating the obvious. Hinata’s smile falters into a sheepish alternative, a little embarrassed even if he’s used to Sakusa’s reactions, having seen them over and over again in his time with the Jackals. Sakusa watches him as he moves closer and lays a hand over Sakusa’s forearm, easily doing so since Sakusa doesn’t seem to mind his touch anymore– hasn’t said a word against it after a while of living together. “Let’s get you to bed so you can properly rest, ‘kay?” Hinata finishes, the level of his voice kept quiet. Sakusa grunts in response.

Hinata rises onto his feet and assists Sakusa in doing the same, allowing Sakusa to rest some of his weight against his smaller body as they make their way to Sakusa’s room. Fortunately, it isn’t too far away; they get there in under the count of a minute despite Sakusa’s sluggish steps, his pace in all things affected by his current condition. Once Sakusa settles on one corner of his bed, Hinata moves away to permit him some much-needed space. Hinata thinks about getting a towel and plastic basin to fill with cold water, but several questions linger at the back of his head and keep him still on his spot. He shifts awkwardly, wondering aloud when he finds the courage. “What happened?”

Sakusa meets his stare through heavy eyes, barely open since fatigue is dragging them shut. Little guilt runs through Hinata for keeping Sakusa awake, but Sakusa hasn’t moved from the corner of the bed to rest under the covers, so maybe it’s alright to initiate one more conversation to satiate his curiosity. Silence blankets them for a bit, Hinata’s question left hanging in the air until Sakusa finally tends to it, sounding weak and a little irritated – with himself or with the nosiness, Hinata can’t be sure. “..I ran out.” Sakusa mumbles, frowning.

Hinata tilts his head to one side, his confusion only growing with the vague answer. The eye contact shared between them is put to an abrupt end as Sakusa turns away and moves to the other end of the bed, eventually sitting against the headboard. Sakusa doesn’t elaborate, leaves the answer as it is even when he notices the bewildered look pointed in his direction. “What exactly did you run out of?” Hinata asks.

Sakusa crosses a leg over the other, eyes darting elsewhere and away from Hinata’s side of the room. Forced to stand in pure silence, Hinata attempts to make sense out of the situation without the assistance of a reply, the gears in his head turning, and his lips pressed into a flat line. Sakusa speaks before he can reach a likely conclusion though, choosing to finally admit and simultaneously making Hinata’s life much easier by letting his overloaded brain rest. “Blood bags. I ran out a few days ago,” Sakusa says slowly. 

Sakusa’s voice comes out much softer than before, and Hinata isn’t sure if it’s because of his weakened health or strong reluctance to confess. Hearing the confession itself isn’t the slightest bit uncomfortable for Hinata, as an admittedly tiny fraction of him had expected Sakusa’s fever to be related to his _being._ Although Hinata doesn’t have a lot of knowledge about vampires and their peculiar ways of life, it makes perfect sense for Sakusa to fall ill if he hasn’t drunk for a concerning amount of time.

Blood is essential to vampires; Hinata knows that much. He also knows the blood bags that Sakusa feeds from are something he usually orders online, and the content isn’t human blood like Hinata had initially thought, but instead blood from animals. The piece of information isn’t one he would have liked to learn about if it weren’t for having a vampire as a roommate, but he has been living with the fact anyway, had eventually grown accustomed to it over the months. Sakusa should be used to it as well– to Hinata knowing, nevermind that he’s human.

Yet, Sakusa is shying away like he’s unwilling to show Hinata the entirety of his reality. 

“Oh,” Hinata supplies, helpful as ever. He wrinkles his nose. “Then shouldn’t you order? If you haven’t, I mean.”

Sakusa glances at him, their gazes leveling with one another once more. “I have,” He sighs, pinching the skin between his eyebrows. “The package won’t come in until tomorrow. I should be fine for today, but it’d be better if I got it now.”

“Well,” Hinata pauses. “Just rest for the meantime, Omi-san. I’ll go get you some stuff to help you cool down.” He says, taking a few steps back to get to the door, hand hovering over the knob when he’s close. But he stays for a second longer, eyes still watching the only other person in the room.

Sakusa slightly tips his head forward. “I’d appreciate that.” He hums, not disregarding Hinata just yet. There’s an afterthought that follows, nice and soft, genuine even with how unpleasant he must feel. “Thanks.”

–

Hinata pushes the bathroom door open with his foot before he slips inside, all the while hugging a plastic basin to his chest, which he took from a cupboard in the kitchen. 

He wouldn’t have needed to go to the bathroom if the kitchen faucet didn’t have an issue that he can’t comprehend, but it unfortunately does, forcing him to go through an extra room for the sake of filling the basin with water. Hinata places the basin under the faucet with a huff, turning the cold water on after. As he lets water run into the container, his eyes wander to every object in the room out of boredom, until they stop on the mirror in front of him. 

Unsurprisingly, what greets him is his reflection, all inches of his face down to half of his upper body copying him when he moves ever so slightly. There isn’t anything interesting about his appearance, besides the fact that his hair seems to be much longer than what he remembers it to be. He reaches out for a specific lock, one that nearly sits on his shoulder, and twists it between his forefinger and thumb, while still watching his copy in the mirror. This time, his eyes fall to the dip between his neck and shoulder. 

He abandons the strand of hair in favor of touching his skin, pressing his fingers on the area his stare is glued to. Hinata digs his nails against the flesh, thinking, feeling– realizing. A click echoes throughout his mind as he meets his own gaze, a particular glint resting within depths of brown. 

The noise of water meeting surface drags him away from his thoughts and back into reality. When he looks down, the basin is more than full, and Hinata swears he can almost hear Sakusa scolding him for wasting water as he turns one of the knobs to cut the source off. He tips the basin to get rid of half of the water inside before gently prying the small cabinet behind the mirror open, revealing washcloths on the upper shelf and medical supplies on the lower one.

Hinata grabs a washcloth and a box of gauze pads as well as tape before he pushes the cabinet shut. He hangs the towel over his shoulder and tucks the supplies under his free arm, his other one already occupied with the basin. He uses his foot again to slide the bathroom door open, letting it close behind him on its own after he steps out. The basin is slightly heavier, hence more of a burden than it originally was as Hinata walks towards Sakusa’s room with careful steps, not wanting to spill even a droplet of water onto the floor.

Thankfully, the door of Sakusa’s room is already ajar. Hinata uses the same foot technique to enter, and he notes that not much has changed in Sakusa’s space over the short period of his disappearance. Sakusa still sits with his back pressed against the headboard of his bed, eyes screwed shut, and arms folded over his chest. As Hinata sets the basin and everything else down onto the roomʼs sole bedside table, he wonders if Sakusa is asleep. “Omi-san?” He tests, sitting on the edge of the bed, close to where Sakusa is.

Sakusa opens his eyes upon hearing the nickname, much to Hinata’s surprise. The feeling quickly ebbs away with the seconds that pass by them, Hinata relaxing into the comfort of the dim room as he scoots closer to the bedside table to dip the washcloth into the water inside the basin.

“How are you feeling?” He asks while allowing the towel to soak for a couple of seconds, pulling it out and wringing all the excess from the cloth afterward.

“Not good.” Sakusa immediately says. Expecting the answer, Hinata only hums in reply and instructs Sakusa to lay down through a mumble. After Sakusa follows his word without uttering one himself, Hinata places the damp towel over the other man’s forehead. 

It remains odd to be in a position where he takes care of Sakusa instead of the other way around, which is what Hinata is truthfully used to. Sakusa has pampered him quite a lot, though he has always done it in a style of his own, quiet yet strong; multiple times where he had ensured Hinata was clean and safe, and warm if the day was cold. The number of times Sakusa had given him a scarf or his jacket can’t be counted with his fingers, and Hinata knows it’s a problem to let himself be spoiled to such a degree, but it’s impossible to dislike it. 

But times like these where their roles are abruptly switched are also welcome. It’s terrible for Sakusa to be unwell, but it’s a time and opportunity for Hinata to at least return the kindness in one way or another– even if it’s an idea he’s unsure of. 

He touches one side of his neck idly, fingers finding their way around the curve and pressing against his nape. Hinata swallows his saliva when he discovers that his throat feels relatively dry. There’s a question that hangs onto the tip of his tongue, heavy and terribly impulsive when he tastes it. “Omi-san,” He starts, “Have you ever drank from people?”

“..What?” Sakusa says, his voice lacking its usual sharpness. His gaze flits from the wall to Hinata’s face, and he narrows his eyes at the redhead. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m curious?” Hinata tries, moving his hand away from his neck to press it against the bed. He fiddles with the bedsheets beneath his palm, unable to do much in the predicament heʼs choosing to be helplessly caught in. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the almost inaudible murmurs of their next-door neighbors that slip through the paper-thin walls.

As much as Sakusa appears unconvinced by the provided reasoning, he indulges Hinata with an answer. “No.”

Hinata’s lips part in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes. Really.” Sakusa pauses for a second or two. “I’ve always used blood bags. Older vampires, though, have probably taken from people. And I’m not old.”

The wry humor puts an upward quirk to Hinata’s lips, and he’s fascinated and amused all at once. The weight pressing down on him lessens for a mere fraction of a second with only Sakusa’s dry joke to thank, but it returns in full force when Hinata opens his mouth to speak. His cheeks grow hot, too, strangely enough. “I was just thinking.” He keeps his gaze still, studying Sakusa’s tired face. “Why not take _from_ _me?_ I mean, I don’t know if I’ll taste any good– but it’ll help you, right?”

Sakusa’s brows knit together at a speed that is mildly concerning. “Hinata, don’t make jokes like that. I don’t like it.”

“I’m not joking,” Hinata huffs. He clutches the sheets, a bit frustrated but mostly embarrassed. “I’m really asking. It would help, right?” He repeats, stressing the last word by pronouncing it slowly. It’s a struggle to keep himself sat straight with bravery displayed at the front when he’s the focus of Sakusa’s steady gaze, which barely softens. 

“Why?” Sakusa grunts, grabbing the towel off his forehead and slowly sitting up with a hiss. Seemingly pained by his own action, his eyes close for a time that Hinata considers to be too long. Hinata inches closer and places his hands on Sakusa’s shoulders, about to guide him back onto the bed when Sakusa suddenly, tightly curls his fingers around Hinata’s wrists. He draws Hinata closer with surprising strength, and the proximity has Hinata’s eyes increasing in size. Sakusa stares, somewhat scowling at him as he continues, “Why should I even consider your idea?”

“Because..” Hinata chews on his inner cheek, unable to look away and mind void of an answer. All he can do for a moment is breathe, a process he has known for years and counting. In and out. In and out, and yet he hears the pace of Sakusa’s breathing too. He feels as dizzy as Sakusa had looked a minute ago. “I want to help. Let me help you.” He pleads, albeit weakly, a whisper for only two pairs of ears, hidden away even from the spirits who stay around. 

Sakusa leans away to recline on the headboard. His hold around Hinata’s wrists loosens, then it completely slips away once Sakusa retracts his hands. Hinata purses his lips as he rubs one of his wrists, chasing the possible remnants of what had just been. The ghost of Sakusa’s touch on his skin is warm enough for him to miss it, to want it back, though the strangeness of it all and the lack of a green light have Hinata frozen still. 

Sakusa’s eyes keep him pinned on his spot as well, continuing to stare him down. Hinata doesn’t ditch the challenge, returning the look despite how his heart knocks against his ribs with not a lot of mercy. “It’ll hurt,” Sakusa says, lips curved downwards into a deep frown. “Didnʼt you think about that?” He asks, another sigh escaping him. In the split second where his lips were slightly parted, Hinata catches a hint of elongated fangs.

He tries to imagine how it would feel for Sakusa’s fangs to sink in and beyond his skin to draw blood from inside to satisfy his hunger. It’s difficult to picture and _feel,_ since Hinata hasn’t gone through such experience. He hadn’t even been aware of the small percentage of vampires living among people until he met Sakusa, who took his time educating Hinata when they began to live under the same roof. Part of those lessons was about vampire and human relationships; how some humans let vampires suck their blood in exchange for particular things like money.

Sakusa had assured him their relationship wouldn’t reach that point, which Hinata thought was unnecessary. It was and still is evident that Sakusa is content with the blood bags from whichever shop he orders from online, and Hinata mainly kept his nose out of Sakusa’s business. Yet, what he considered as unnecessary reassurance about a point in a relationship is precisely the point they find themselves in now, tangled in a situation caused by a delayed order.

Though Hinata doesn’t know what to expect with what he’s suggesting, it’s a risk he’s willing to take. Potential danger doesn’t seem so much of a problem if he’ll be helping Sakusa return to a better state. Besides that, Hinata trusts him too, trusts Sakusa to take a healthy amount of blood and not wholly drain him of it. All he needs and is waiting for is Sakusa’s approval. Hinata wonders if Sakusa’s hesitation is only caused by his concern of putting him through pain, or if it’s also joined with his uncertainty about taking blood from the source itself, rather than receiving it in plastic. 

“I know it’ll hurt. I’d be surprised if it doesn’t.” Hinata says, taking another risk by creeping a tad bit closer to Sakusa’s direction. The intensity of Sakusa’s glare is nearly a threat– _prey,_ Hinata thinks. He feels as if he may genuinely be prey now, even more so when Sakusa pats his thigh. Slowly, Hinata crawls towards him. Not for a second does Sakusa stop watching, and Hinata’s breath catches in his throat as he perches himself on top of Sakusa’s lap.

“Tell me you’re sure about this,” Sakusa says, the roughness of his voice exposing all of his concealed worries. For all the concern Sakusa has, Hinata still catches him regarding his neck with short interest. Greed wins more often than not, Hinata knows this as somebody who’s gone through bizarre lengths to stand as who he is today. The same greed can be found in Sakusa, easy for Hinata to discern when their eyes meet once more. He stills, listening to every word Sakusa mutters next, said like an nth secret between them. A personal promise. “I’ll let you leave if you aren’t, but there’s no turning back if you are.”

With nimble fingers, Hinata grabs Sakusa’s shirt near the hem. The speed of his heartbeat isnʼt normal– nothing about _this_ is normal, almost like he’s volunteering to dive headfirst into danger. Still, Hinata has never been so thrilled for something that isn’t volleyball. He feels so ready to give, hundreds of feelings and thoughts whizzing by him. “I’m sure,” Hinata says, his grasp around the fabric of Sakusa’s tee tightening.

“Okay,” Sakusa mutters in return, resting his hands on Hinata’s waist. Hinata is unprepared for the warmth that comes with Sakusa’s hands; the hottest Hinata has ever felt them. Even with his shirt acting as a barrier between Sakusa’s palms and his body, the sensation reaches his skin. Though the feeling isn’t unwelcome, it’s as strange as most things are at the moment since Sakusa’s hands, like everything else that’s part of him, usually are cold. 

_He has a fever,_ a voice in his head reminds. _A fever because he’s hungry–_ presumably starving as a matter of fact, yet there isn’t any drastic difference in the distance kept between them. Hinata remains frozen on Sakusa’s thighs, uncertain of what to do. Sakusa hasnʼt moved an inch either, seemingly sharing a similar thought; his face says it all, brows furrowed and a deep frown, clearly the more nervous one out of the two of them. Hinata’s unable to refrain from smiling, entertained for a moment before taking it upon himself to steal the first act, looping his arms around Sakusa’s neck. He moves closer, their bodies nearly pressing against each other. “Omi-san,” Hinata leans closer, “I trust you with all my life.”

Sakusa snorts. Hinata is slightly offended, but only because he means it. “With all your life?” Sakusa repeats, arms completely circling Hinata’s waist, pulling him closer, closer, _closer_ until distance is considered an unmissed memory. Hinata attempts to not think about the little space between them, except he does, and his heart skips a beat when Sakusa wets his lips. There’s a strange idea at the back of his head, too, painting a pretty picture of mouth on mouth. It’s forgotten once Sakusa speaks again, demanding Hinata’s attention with only his voice. “Do you even think before you open your mouth?” 

“It’s true though,” Hinata says, voice edging into a whine. “So, take it easy.”

“Mhm,” is all Sakusa offers, shoulders dropping while his hands move lower.

Pretending as if he isnʼt awfully aware of the hands sitting on the hem of his shirt on each side, Hinata guides Sakusa forward by his nape, bringing the otherʼs face closer to the expanse of his neck. 

“Go ahead,” is what he whispers, yet his face goes red the moment Sakusa leans in and plants an unexpected kiss right below his jaw. His breath hitches at the contact, almost embarrassingly so. Surprise spreads across his features and the tips of his ears burn, all of which Sakusa is unaware of. Heʼs unaware of the countless things Hinataʼs heart seems to scream for, each one confusing in nature. They form one desire that Hinata canʼt fully grasp the definition of, too much for him to handle, to process, to understand. 

His hand leaves Sakusa’s nape to rest on Sakusa’s shoulder instead, a measure of some sort to keep himself from going entirely limp for whatever is about to come. Sakusa leaves a series of sweet pecks along his neck, making his way down from Hinataʼs jaw to the base of Hinataʼs neck, slowly so as to not miss a spot. Every kiss is gentle in a way anyone wouldnʼt expect from the likes of Sakusa, causing Hinataʼs stomach to perform somersaults. Hinata squeezes his shoulder, shifting uncontrollably on Sakusaʼs lap every time the sharp ends of Sakusa’s fangs nudge his skin. 

He stops moving when Sakusaʼs grip on his waist tightens, forcing him to stay still. Eventually, the kisses left on his neck come to an end, a loss which Hinata admittedly dislikes. Sakusaʼs lips are soft but unforgiving all at once, and Hinata can only wish they were somewhere else. Itʼs a fantasy that suddenly lives in his head, explicit in all of its details, feeding the fire at the pit of his stomach. The reality, however, isnʼt too bad; Sakusa’s open mouth hovers over his exposed collarbone, hot breath fanning the area. Hinata shudders as Sakusa presses the entirety of his tongue flat against his collarbone, nipping at the skin above it. “Hinata,” Sakusa whispers after, the syllables uttered against damp skin. “I’m going to bite you.”

“O- Okay,” Hinata breathes out, his former confidence replaced with the exact opposite of it. His heartbeat thrums in his ears, and thinking is proving to be difficult, the only thoughts present in his head being Sakusa’s voice, touch, and the fangs threatening to dig into him. He’s terrified to some extent, but also anticipating the procedure, inevitably curious about how it will feel and how much it will hurt. Hinata considers Sakusa, too, when his brain allows him to have a brief thought– itʼs a first for both of them, and up until now, Sakusa hasnʼt had a taste of human blood. As Hinata holds his breath, waiting for the bite, he hopes he will be enough. He hopes heʼll taste the way Sakusa wants him to, hopes to be of any use at all for the man before him. 

_“Itadakimasu,”_ Sakusa mumbles, before sinking his fangs into the thick layer of skin inch by inch, the pointed ends of his teeth creating man-made holes in the flesh and piercing deep into Hinata’s vein. Hinataʼs toes curl, and he gasps as a jolt of pain rushes through him, followed by a scream which resounds through their apartment but dies at the back of his throat when the pain dwindles to almost nothing at all. He thrashes around in Sakusaʼs arms, and his fingers pull on the latterʼs shirt, stretching the fabric with unkind strength. If thinking was difficult a moment ago, then it’s impossible now. Hinata’s mind arrives at a complete stop within the next minute the hour welcomes. He feels like heʼs somewhere else, somewhere far and serene– like heʼs in the sky, instead of a dark bedroom. 

Struck by unfamiliar rapture, his body goes temporarily soft in Sakusa’s arms, while his eyes roll back in his head, closing soon after. With every trickle of blood he gives away, Sakusa’s hunger lessens. Sakusa sucks on the wound with fervor once hidden, fast to swallow every drop that falls into his mouth and lands on the tip of his tongue. His hunger only heightens as he takes his fill, enthralled by the taste; Hinataʼs blood is different compared to the content of the blood bags, rich in taste and mouth-watering in smell. Itʼs hot when it drips on the surface of his tongue, acrid and sweet and nothing like he has ever had the pleasure of drinking before. Scarlet spills across his teeth, and his unwanted fever reduces to weak traces with every swallow. 

Sakusa can only wish to be greedy, acknowledging that itʼll be difficult for him to be satisfied after this, but not wanting to burden Hinata with the duty of being his source. He wouldnʼt agree with having an arrangement with other people either; heʼd rather not take a bath for a week than bite into a stranger whose hygiene could be terrible. Not anybody can meet his requirements, but the person on his lap does, the very person he knows he canʼt have. Sakusa prays for selfishness to consume him, because maybe then he would have the courage. But his desperation remains unspoken, only unleashed through his growing nails digging into Hinataʼs sides. When he thinks they might drive past Hinataʼs shirt and into his skin, he halts, hands freezing. 

Sakusa pulls away by the slightest a beat later. His fangs withdraw from the tear in Hinataʼs skin, the tips leaving first before the rest of their length, every centimeter stained with blood. Though his fangs are no longer buried in Hinataʼs vein, his business is unfinished. He licks the wound as blood continues to flow, chasing after the fluid if it streams down Hinataʼs collarbone. As he soothes any remaining pain with upward motions of his tongue, the cut slowly closes, healed by an inexplicable agent in his saliva. Only a mark is left in the end and it fills him with odd pride when his eyes trail over it. 

Sakusa leans away from Hinata’s neck, and he adjusts Hinata so that his face is buried in the crook of Sakusa’s neck. His whole body still leans against Sakusa for support, stock-still. “Hinata,” Sakusa calls out with a voice he considers too soft, too vulnerable. “Are you still with me?” He questions, while rubbing comforting circles onto Hinataʼs lower back.

“Mm,” Hinata hums, eyes opening to peek at the other man. The corners of his lips pull down into a small frown, mind still a bit hazy to comprehend much except for the change in Sakusa’s body temperature. The warmth is already long gone, replaced by the usual chill, the sole trait to separate Sakusa from humans besides the oddity of his teeth. “You’re all cold now..” He complains but snuggles closer to Sakusa anyway, fingers still clinging to the fabric of the other man’s shirt.

“I wouldn’t be if you didn’t help, so don’t complain.” Sakusa shoots back– gently, of course, to not disrupt the tender atmosphere. Hinata groans into Sakusa’s neck, disliking that heʼs the only one to blame for the loss. But putting lost warmth aside, Hinata doesn’t regret helping. Maybe he’d even consider doing it again if needed, and not because it’s somewhat an enjoyable experience after the initial pain, even though he now has a clear understanding of why some people agree to be a vampire’s source of blood. It’s a respectable profession, Hinata decides.

Curious, he brushes his fingers against the area where Sakusa bit into. A grunt of disapproval from Sakusa follows, which Hinata decides to ignore. He’s half-expecting to touch at least a hint of blood, or the open wound itself, but what greets the pads of his fingers is his skin with no tear at all. He winces as he puts pressure on the spot, realizing that it’s already a bruise. Hinata draws back to look at Sakusa’s face, eyebrows furrowed in question. “Why is it healed?” He asks as he spares a glance towards the box of gauze pads on the bedside table, internally deeming it an official waste. 

“It isn’t,” Sakusa says, pulling Hinata’s hand away from his neck. Hinata reddens at the contact – a cold, bigger hand taking his, their fingers almost intertwining. His focus is nowhere but everywhere for an ample amount of time, ‘everywhere’ being Sakusa’s face. Sakusa’s pale complexion has returned, but he looks livelier in a way. Hinata watches Sakusa’s mouth move, talking about something which he tunes out. It’s only after it falls shut does he leave his thoughts, blinking up at Sakusa twice.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Nevermind,” Sakusa says, clicking his tongue. “Aren’t you tired? You should go to sleep.”

Hinata thinks about it, lower lip jutting out into a pout. He does feel a bit drained, _literally._ “I guess,” He mutters, sounding unsure with himself. A nap would be nice, but he doesn’t want to move from where he is. His bedroom is on the other side of their entire apartment, and he’s somewhat certain his legs would give up on him if he stands up. Unconsciously, Hinata squeezes Sakusa’s hand. “Do you mind if I sleep here, Omi-san?”

“Do you want me to mind?” Sakusa retorts.

Hinata shakes his head, lips stretching into a small, sheepish smile. “I’ll nap for a while then.” Ignoring his slight reluctance to leave Sakusa’s arms, he pulls away from the loose embrace and positions himself at the available side of the bed. After quickly fluffing a pillow up, Hinata lays down, facing Sakusa’s direction to be able to still see him. “Goodnight, Omi-san.” He mumbles sleepily, even though a single glance at the roomʼs lone wall clock tells him it’s barely six.

“Night - and thank you.” Sakusa tells him, always a man of little words but great impact. Satisfied with the reply, Hinata closes his eyes. He gradually drifts off to a dark place where dreams can be bent into a momentary reality, missing the way an expression softens as he falls dead to the world, breath evening out into a slow rhythm. 

Sakusa watches him, listening attentively when soft snores from Hinata play out minutes later. But when he stares for too long, something in his chest halts– painful and as unforgiving as the silence they have naturally fallen into. He turns back to the front, feeling pity for himself because of a reason unknown. With a sigh, Sakusa buries his face in his cold palms that are so unlike Hinataʼs warmth. 

He wonders why, despite the departure of his fever, he continues to feel strange.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! kudos and comments are so appreciated. 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/msbys21).


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